


A Ricksmas Carol

by rickandmortygetschwifty



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Gen, Gift Fic, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Rick is friggin Scrooge, Rick needs to learn to value Morty, give Morty a hug pleaseee, poor Morty, warning for rick being a punchable dick in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rickandmortygetschwifty/pseuds/rickandmortygetschwifty
Summary: Morty's finally had enough of his grandfather's bullshit and tells him to fuck off after a vicious fight on Christmas Eve. Before Rick could irreparably damage his relationship with his grandson, he's visited by three mysterious guests...or,The story of how Rick learned the true meaning of Christmas.





	A Ricksmas Carol

**Author's Note:**

> This is a secret santa fic for [rickor-mortis](http://rickor-mortis.tumblr.com/) , who requested for "Platonic Rick/Morty bonding"!
> 
> Sorry this is just the first part, I was extremely busy this Christmas and this just turned out longer than I expected T-T I also took some liberties with your prompt! I hope you like this nonetheless, and I'll have the final part up really soon! Merry Christmas and have a happy new year! :D

_Once upon a time, there lived a man of many peculiarities. He was of above average intelligence, able to make creations that could dazzle the minds of all who meet him. His trusted companion was his ever loyal and trustworthy grandson, who accompanied him on his every adventure. They—_

“Ughhh.”

_—were a formidable duo with a fearsome reputation. But then the man started to become ungrateful. He started to see his grandson as no more than a puppet or tool, a means to an end. The man became blinded by his own hubris and took his grandson for granted. And one day, his companion finally had enough and put his foot down. This is where our story begins. It—_

“Wait a minute. ‘Ungrateful?’ What bullshit is that? Did Morty write this intro?”

_Ahem. As I was saying, our story begins with a series of incidents which leads to our little tale that happens one Christmas Eve. Rick—_

“I want to go take a piss now.”

 _—_ _would soon realize the consequences through a rather unusual visit from three strangers. Will you stop interrupting me? It’s distracting._

 “Goddamn it, I-I’m seriously considering shooting myself in the head if I—UUURP—have to listen to any more of this fucking prologue bullshit. Would you get on with it and tell the story already?”

_But how will our dear listeners follow along if I don’t set it up appropriately?_

“Does i-it fucking matter? Stop treating yoOOUGHr audience like they’re kindergartners. Show, don’t tell! They don’t need this sort of-of useless exposition. You haven’t said anything of substance that justifies it. I bet half of them is already asleep a-a-and the story hasn’t even started yet! Y-y-you are the sorriest excuse of a storyteller I’ve ever seen.”

_Alright. God. I just wanted to set the story up like some Christmas tale, y’know? Get into the holiday spirit! No need to be a downer._

“All you’ve done is prove how incompetent you are at this.”

_Wow, you really do make a good stand-in for Scrooge._

"Shut up and just tell the story."

* * *

 

 **December 3** , **9:15 am**

“Rick?” a voice called out one December morning.

Rick paused for a second when he heard the sound of his name, but continued his work when he identified the voice’s owner. Morty poked his head into the garage and searched for his unseen grandfather. Stepping over bits of scrap metal and other litter, Morty slowly made his way to the sounds of Rick’s tinkering, taking care not to accidentally bump into the boxes of junk that lay scattered on the floor. The boy picked up his pace when his eyes landed on a familiar tuft of blue hair. He called out the man’s name again.

Rick nodded once in acknowledgement, sparing Morty a glance before returning his attention to his invention.

“Hey, Rick,” said Morty, clearly nervous. “I-I-I’ve been meaning to ask about tonight. It’s at eleven, right? What are we gonna tell mom and dad? Tomorrow’s a school day. Are we going to sneak out?”

“Huh?”

“What’s our plan for tonight?” Morty repeated.

“Rick flipped his safety goggles up onto his forehead, eyeing the contraption in his hands and only paying the slightest attention to the boy. “W-w-what’s happening? I can’t do tonight, I-I’ve got a hot date scheduled with a Galaxathorian at 9. I’m not goOOOUGHnna pass up a date with one of ‘em. They’re the kinkiest bastards this side of the galaxy, not to mention they’re packing some _equipment—”_

Morty gaped at him. “A-a-are you kidding me, Rick? Y-you’re blowing me off _again_ just to get laid? That’s the third time this month! I’ve had enough! C-can’t you control your libido for once and skip the damn date? That alien isn’t running away, you know! They’ll still be around to wait for you after this week!”

Rick shook his head. “Sorry, Morty, no can do. You expect me to stand her up? I’m not getting on her bad side just to hang out with you. Whatever’s happening tonight, can’t y-y-you just reschedule it?”

His grandson recoiled as if he was slapped in the face. “Y-you’re really choosing a hookup over me? I-I can’t reschedule it! You don’t remember? We were— we’re supposed to be watching the premiere of Ball Fondlers: Hijack the Holidays! You practically had to scam someone out of their tickets and we’ve been planning this for weeks!”

Rick winced. Oh, right. Now that Morty had mentioned it, he _had_ told the boy that they would watch that movie. But seriously, even though it was a Ball Fondlers movie, Rick had no desire to watch it. He wasn’t very overly fond of cheap Christmas movies. No, scratch that, he wasn’t a fan of Christmas in general. He didn’t see much of a point in celebrating a pointless commercialized holiday. He only got the tickets because he was tired of Morty's puppy eyes and begging. So he got the tickets to shut the boy up.

“Morty, y-y-you wouldn’t want to watch it anyways,” Rick said, in an attempt to do damage control. “I-i-it’s a shitty holiday movie, you’ve seen the trailer. It’s just a pathetic attempt at—UUUURP— a cash grab! The movie’s just for poor schmucks who buy into that Christmas bullshit. Don’t tell me y-y-your standards have fallen that far, Morty.”

His grandson didn’t fall for it. “I-I don’t care if it’s just some shitty movie, Rick! I’ve been looking forwards to this for ages! W-w-we had a deal! And you’re trying to worm your way out of it just for some stupid date? I can’t believe you!”

“Fine!” Rick threw up his hands. “Christ, Morty, I-I’ll cancel. We’ll go watch your dumb movie that we could just easily download off the internet.” Morty nodded then skipped his way out of the garage. Rick went back to work, pushing the whole conversation to the back of his mind. Morty's not going to notice if he went out with his date for a few hours, won't he?

His grandson wasn't waiting for him when he inevitably arrived home after midnight.

* * *

 

**December 13, 3:34 pm**

Morty  lasted a mere couple of days before caving in and talking to Rick again. Which Rick had expected. Morty had never been able to go for very long without Rick and their adventures.

So what's the first thing he did when he got back in his grandson's good graces?

Why, make him a guinea pig for his latest experiment, of course. That's one of the reasons why he kept Morty around. 

“Rick? Are you _sure_ this safe?” the boy asked from his place on the platform.

“It’s as safe as it’ll ever get, Morty,” Rick replied, pressing a button to lower the safety glass onto the platform. “I-I just need to test the effects of a sleeping gas before I sell it to one of my best customers. He’s goOOUGHnna expect something top notch from me, he’s one of my more demanding clients.”

“Then w-w-why does the platform have to be encased in a container that’s almost three inches thick?” Morty said, tapping the glass that was completely trapping him inside. Rick snapped on his protective mask and turned on the speakers so he could hear the boy better.

“It’s because it’ll be more catastrophic if the gas were to be released, Morty,” Rick said, switching on the machine. “W-what if I accidentally inhale it? Who would be around to administer the antidote to wake the both of us up? W-w-we’ll be knocked out for hours!”

“Okay,” Morty said, still sounding suspicious. “But are y-y-you sure I’ll be fine after this? How long is this experiment going to take? I don’t want to be sleeping for the whole day, Rick. I’ve been—”

 “—invited to Jessica’s Christmas party,” Rick interrupted. “Y-y-you’ve told me that exactly seventeen times. Give it a break, you’re going to be fine, Morty. Nothing’s going to happen to you because I’ll be watching you like a hawk.” Rick pressed a button on the machine and released a purplish gas into the container. He gave a thumbs-up to his worried grandson, who was soon engulfed in a swirl of violet.  

“A-a-alright, Rick…” he heard his grandson mumble.

 _What a worrywart._  Rick rolled his eyes and checked his watch, then promptly strolled to the kitchen to grab a snack. His grandson would be fine. What could possibly go wrong in the span of a few minutes?

The answer turned out to be a lot.

Rick returned to utter pandemonium and hell. His machine was beeping like mad, the row of red lights on its side flashing erratically. The purple gas in the chamber was so thick he couldn’t even see Morty anymore. The speakers crackled with the choked sounds of a boy trying to call for help.

“RICK! RIIIIIIICK!”

“I’m coming, Morty!” Rick yelled as he sprang into action. He sprinted to the machine, jabbed at the off button, and reversed the air flow to suck all the gas out. His jaw dropped when the air cleared and he saw Morty.

His grandson was lying on the floor, coughing and sputtering clouds of purple gas. Morty thumped his ribcage with his fist to try to dispel the toxic vapors from his lungs. The poor boy tilted his head weakly at Rick, wincing in pain.

Morty looked like a wreck. His skin had turned into a pale, sickly shade of bluish-violet, there was a thin film of disgustingly oily slime coating every part of him, and he was still exhaling wisps of purple gas. The boy tilted his head weakly at Rick, seemingly in immense pain. The boy reached out to Rick, who instinctively flinched away to avoid getting the slime onto his coat.

“W-w-what took you so long to get me out of there, Rick?” he croaked. “You were gone for ages!”

“Well—” Rick scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t think to check if there were any side effects to the gas.”

Morty stared at Rick for a long moment. Then his eyes slipped down to the junk in Rick’s other hand. “I-I-Is that a soda can? A-a-and an empty chip bag?”

“Yep.”

_“You had time to get a snack from the kitchen while I was suffocating?”_

“Don’t be stupid, Morty,” Rick said, entirely oblivious to the growing look of fury on the boy’s face. “You yoUUURP weren’t suffocating in there, y-you’re not dead after being exposed to the gas for an hour. The gas was simply tooOOOUGh thick for your lungs a-and that’s why you had a hard time breathing. Did it even work? Do-do you feel sleepy?” he said, peering into Morty’s eyes.

There was no trace of sleepiness in his grandson’s eyes. “Rick, you’re a first-class asshole!” he snapped. “I-I-I could’ve died in there while you were dicking around in the house!”

“I—”

 Morty was having none of it. “Not. A. Fucking. Word. What’s done is done. Just give me the fucking antidote. My skin feels really itchy and I have to prepare for Jessica’s party.”

Rick looked away sheepishly. “Morty, there’s one problem—”

“Oh geez, another one. W-what a surprise.”

“—I-I can’t administer the antidote to you. We don’t know how it’s going to affect you, it was designed to negate the soporic qualities of the sleeping gas. But the gas didn’t work as intended, so now I-I-I’d have to create a new one to clear up your… condition.”

Morty looked close to tears as he looked down at himself. He was still bright purple and secreting a shiny film of oil. “H-how long would I be like this?”

“Uhh… probably a whole day?”

His grandson stayed purple and slimy for an entire week.

* * *

 

**December 20, 7 pm**

It took several days, two all-day passes to Blips and Chitz, and a not-too-sincere promise from Rick that he would spend time with Morty at the arcade for the status quo to return. A little too much effort to win back Morty for Rick’s liking, but at least it stopped his grandson’s ridiculous attempts at giving Rick the cold shoulder. The way that Morty lit up and said, “this was all I wanted!” gave Rick a newfound respect for the boy. At least the boy was honest if not shrewd.

 Rick had always thought that the most rational people had loyalties that could be bought with some compensation. What’s the point of staying angry at someone if they paid you enough to make up for the entire loss? Absolutely nothing, and you did that only if you were an illogical, emotional moron. Rick was glad Morty wasn’t one of them.

If only he wasn’t being dragged around by Morty like some rag doll…

“Rick, look!” Morty suddenly yelled, yanking on his grandfather’s sleeve to catch his attention. He pointed to a game that had a line that reached all the way to the entrance of the arcade. “That’s the new virtual reality game! I-it’s the one about escaping a maximum-security Galactic Federation prison! Can-can we play it?”

Rick eyed the miles-long queue to the gaming booth and sighed. “Morty, w-w-we run from the Galactic Federation in real life. Couldn’t you have chosen a game that exercises your mental faculties? This isn’t any different to our normal adventures. I-i-it’s a knockoff experience, Morty, a diet substitute. W-what’s the point of playing a game like that when—UUURP— when you could do the real thing?” Rick looked around and spotted an empty Roy arcade machine. “How about that one, Morty? W-we could do a couple rounds of Roy!”

But Morty was already pulling him towards the back of the line for the VR escape game. “Geez, Rick, Roy? I don’t want to play that game anymore! That’s even more like real life. And our last Roy game traumatized me, I raised three kids that all died in a car crash! That game is fucked up!”

Rick refused to budge. He dug his heels in, refusing to let the boy drag him towards the back of the queue. “I’m not waiting in that line, Morty. I-I’ll be six feet under before we get close enough to try it out. I-if you want to waste a good four hours of your life trying out an overhyped game, that’s on you.”

“Y-y-you promised you’d go with me!”

“I promised I’d go with you to Blips and Chitz, no more, no less. I’m not going.”

Morty mumbled something under his breath before giving Rick an undecipherable look. He suddenly dropped Rick’s hand and all emotion was completely wiped from his face. “I’ll just play the damn thing by myself. Go fuck off somewhere else if you want to, then. I-I’ll just meet you back at the parking lot by”—he checked his watch— “ten-thirty. See you.”

His grandson disappeared into the crowd without so much as a goodbye.

Rick stood awkwardly in the same spot for a couple of minutes, staring at the now-empty spot where his grandson used to be. Huh. Was it him, or was Morty still a little angry? Hadn’t Rick already earned his forgiveness? Then why does something still feel… off?

 Rick frowned. Maybe he needed to buy the boy a present to cool his temper more. Rick ran a hand through his hair, assessing his options. Right. Gift shop it is, then.

“Woah, wait, Rick?” a heavy hand settled on his shoulder and three pairs of luminous green eyes swept into view. Rick startled, jumping slightly from the sudden appearance of a vaguely familiar face. “It’s me, Hortxhop! Remember? We used to hang out back on my homeworld?”

Rick blinked, the faintest memories of drinking with a six-eyed alien surfacing. H quickly forgot his previous dilemma and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Oh, Hortxhop? From the Horsktop-8 system? Holy shit, long time no see! What are you doing here? You still working at the bar?”

“Hell yeah, I’m still working at the bar! The owner gives me free drinks, who am I to pass that up?” Hortxhop laughed. “I’m just on vacation, man! Say, I’m headed to the club three star systems over, you wanna come with? Anyone’s allowed in, plus I know the host. He throws the best fucking parties this side of the galaxy. I’ll be just like the old days.” the alien started steering him towards the exit. “It’s way better than a night at Blips and Chitz!”

“I know it’s been forever, Hortsxhop, but I can’t,” Rick replied, remembering Morty. “I-I-I left my grandson in here, I don’t have time to go to a party off-planet. I have to pick him up in a few hours.”

“You’re actually worried about a brat? Well fuck me, Rick, have you actually become… _responsible_?” the alien shuddered. “Nah, we’ll be out and back before you even know it. Your kid won’t even notice. Plus, you’ve got that portal gun of yours right? You can just teleport yourself back here when you need to. ‘Sides,” Hortsxhop said, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I heard there’s going to be enough booze and babes there to fill a stadium. Why does your grandson get to have all the fun? C’mon.”

“Well…” Rick took one last look back at the long, snakelike line to Morty’s ride and back at the pleading face of his alien friend.

“C’mon, Rick… let’s just catch up for an hour, whaddaya say?”

 “Alright, y-you got me. Hortsxhop, you know I can’t say no to my two favorite ‘B’ words! Let’s get wasted, motherfucker!”

* * *

 

**December 24, 4:21 am**

Morty wrenched open the passenger door violently.

“Hey, Morty, go easy on the door. You’re gonna rip it off its hinges,” Rick commented.

No response.

“Morty?”

“I got it, Rick. I’m not deaf,” Morty snapped back with enough venom to poison a rattlesnake. “I’ll try to be quieter next time. Rick raised an eyebrow and started the ship instead of replying. In a few minutes, they were out of Blips and Chitz’ parking lot and on the way back home.

The silence in the spaceship was oppressive and heavy. Rick sneaked a glance at Morty, who was making a pointed effort not to look at his grandfather the entire time. The boy’s face had settled into a deep scowl and he was muttering to himself every few minutes.

“W-w-would you quit your moping, Morty? Y-you’re kind of—UUURP—killing my buzz here.”

“I’m not moping.”

Rick snorted, leaning back and eyeing his straight-faced grandson. “Sure you aren’t. Like I’m sure that y-you haven’t been giving me the silent treatment l-l-like some hormonal teenager in a chick-flick movie.”

“Oh, sorry, Rick,” said Morty sarcastically, giving Rick a pointed look before returning his gaze to the window. “Maybe I’m just feeling a little pissy from being stranded alone in Blips and Chitz for _three whole days?”_

“I-I don’t know why you were so angry about it, Morty, didn’t you say going to Blips and Chitz was what you wanted? You got to spend more time in there, so I can’t—I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Rick prattled on, ignoring the twitch in Morty’s left eye. “You know I’d never leave yoOOOUGH in there forever. If you stopped bitching about every little thing, y-you could’ve enjoyed yourself more.”

“No, Rick, you dense bastard, that’s not what I fucking wanted! At all! Did you—a-a-are you even—God. The Blips and Chitz passes were only good for one day, Rick. One. Day. That means they kicked me to the curb after 24 hours. I was out wandering a fucking alien metropolis by myself! Where were you—”

“—The most important thing is that you’re here now,” Rick interrupted, trying to steer the conversation away from a touchy topic. “I think you’re blowing things out of proportion, Morty. Aren’t you always telling me that I treat you like a toddler? I-I gave you freedom. Here was your big chance to prove yourself, and you fucking blew it. I’m disappointed, Morty. I’m really disappointed.”

Morty screamed in frustration and proceeded to hit his head repeatedly with the side of his hand. Rick stayed silent as he watched the boy shout abuses.

“God, Rick, are you even hearing yourself? You’re full of shit— y-y-you’re the single most ungrateful, dense bastard I’ve ever met. Y-y-you treat me worse that actual fucking strangers! You’re one more colossal fuck-up from losing me completely. Tell me why I even bother hanging out with you. And don’t,” he added, seeing Rick start to protest, “make up bullshit that I can smell from a mile away, because I fucking _swear_ I’m going to punch you in the face even if you’re the one driving right now.”

 “You’re really not giving me any room, Morty. W-w-what do you want me to say? ‘Please, Morty, you’re the most important person to me,’” Rick mocked. “You know I don’t do displays of affection, Morty. Love is just a—”

“Chemical reaction, I get it.” Morty lost all the energy to even glare at his grandfather. He said tiredly, “This whole week has been a shitshow for me, Rick. Hell, this entire month has been hell. Give me something, anything, before I go—before I decide I’m wasting my time a-a-and stop going out on adventures with you altogether.  I-I-I’m so fed up, Rick.  I’ve had it after today. This is your last chance. _Convince me._ ”

“What, like apologize?” Rick almost sneered.

“That’s a start.”

“God, alright. I-I’m sorry.” Rick said unconvincingly. Morty groaned quietly and leaned away from Rick. Sensing his grandson withdrawing from him, he hastily added, “Tell you what, Morty. W-w-we can do whatever you want tonight. You decide where you want us to go. And if I skip out, you—UUURP—can tell me I’m a lost cause to my face, and you don’t have to go on any adventures with me for a week.”

“Not good enough, Rick.”

“Then what _exactly_ do you want?!”

 “I-I-I want you to promise not to blow me off, Rick! That’s what I wanted! I want you to stay and spend time with the family! I want you to stick around for once! N-n-no making excuses or sneaking off to do whatever you want like you do with every other holiday!”  Morty looked at him decisively.  “But not just a week, Rick. I’m never going to go on an adventure with you anymore if y-you fuck this up.” Morty returned his gaze to the window. “This is your last chance to prove yourself.”

“’Course, Morty,” Rick agreed breezily. His grandson was just riled up. He needed to let the boy cool off before he threw a tantrum. A promise was Rick’s best bet at calming him down.

Besides, Morty wasn’t being serious. Right?

 

* * *

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent: 4:16 pm**

Hey Rick! Just wanted to ask you if you’re still game for a day at the Immortality Field Resort? I already asked Birdperson, he’ll meet us there. Let’s go ride the Whirly Dirly until we’re sick! What do you say?

****

**Rick**

**Sent: 4:20 pm**

Soooorry no can do, Squanchy! my grandsons being an complete asshole lately, and he went ballistic today. the only way I could calm him down was to promise him I was going to “spend time with the family” tonight. im under house arrest tonight

 

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent:4:21 pm**

Aww, Rick, I miss squanching around with you and Birdperson! Can’t you just ask Morty if you could do that another day?

 

**Rick**

**Sent:4:25 pm**

my grandson is pissed off enough to punch me in the nuts if I break the promise. i don’t know why hed ask that, though. you’d think hed have wanted to put as much distance between us after his tantrum. morty is an unsolvable and insufferable enigma

 

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent: 4:27 pm**

Maybe Morty’s testing you? He just wants to see if you’d keep your promise.

 

**Rick**

**Sent:4:29 pm**

If thats true then it’s a pretty shit way to test if id keep a promise. why wouldn’t he just ask me to buy something for him then? saves us both the time and effort of figuring me out. But you know morty, if there’s a more time consuming and roundabout way of completing a task, he’ll find it.  i cant go tonight

 

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent:4:30 pm**

 We could get your entire family to go to the Immortal Field Resort too? Just pass it off as a day out and I’m sure Morty’ll never suspect anything.

 

**Rick**

**Sent: 4:31 pm**

Just one problem Squanchy. I ditched morty at blips and chitz a couple of days ago and hes not gonna be too keen on going out soon

 

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent: 4:33 pm**

You left Morty on an alien planet?! Rick, what in the name of squanch were you thinking?

 

**Rick**

**Sent: 4:36 pm**

Ive already gotten an earful from morty, I don’t need to hear it from you.

 

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent: 4:37 pm**

Alright, alright. Couldn’t you, y’know… build a robot  or something? It’s just one day, Rick, he won’t notice.

 

**Rick**

**Sent: 4:39 pm**

That won’t work. ive built robotic replicas of myself before. had a hell of a time putting it down when it gained sentience. it had limited reactions too, since it didn’t have any of my memories downloaded in its hard drive, it was restricted to making crude approximations based on my general personality. Morty would see through it, as dumb as he is. he knows me too well. I need something more exact… and maybe organic…

 

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent: 4:40 pm**

Well that’s too bad. I guess it’s just me and Birdperson then.

 

**Rick:**

**Sent: 4:41 pm**

Wait

 

**Rick**

**Sent: 4:41 pm**

Hold on

 

**From: Squanchy**

**Sent: 4:42 pm**

What?

 

**Rick**

**Sent: 4:45 pm**

Squanchy I might have a solution after all. ill see you at the line to the whirly dirly


End file.
